


Fire Emblem: Tales from the Outrealms

by AjanisApprentice



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: A lot more characters who I don't feel like writing in or I don't know if they'll be in it yet, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-07-28 20:16:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7655203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AjanisApprentice/pseuds/AjanisApprentice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are the stories that are not written, the ones forgotten by time and space. These are the stories from the Outrealms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Note: This storyline is composed of many different one-shots which have the Shepherds and or Corrin's crew interact with each other or even characters from different universes from the Fire Emblem one. Read, Review, and most importantly, Enjoy.

Chapter One: A Thief's Backstory.

Crossover: None.

Characters: Robin, Gaius.

Rating: General Audiences

Robin, tactician of the Shepherds, was relaxing in the sun, sucking on a popsicle. The Shepherds were taking a small vacation in the Hotrealm, the beach outrealm. Robin's wife, Lucina, was, at the moment, playing a game of volleyball with the other 'Children of the Future'. While the tactician was happy that his wife actually having fun for once he was now alone. Not that he minded. The last time he was here, between a bandit attack and Tharja, his ex-stalker, asking to slather her in oil mid-battle, he didn't have much time to relax. Now however the Shepherds were alone and Tharja was with her husband Libra.

"Hey Bubbles, mind if I join you while you're getting a tan?" Gauis, the Shepherds thief and residential sugar-holic, asked. Robin shook his head.

"I don't mind. Feel free to join." While Robin didn't mind being alone he happened to like Gauis. The two had become good friends and enjoyed hanging out. Gauis sat down and the two lay down silently. Finally Robin spoke.

"You know Gaius, I'm curious. Why did you become a thief?" Gaius was silent for a moment.

"It's a long story Bubbles. You sure you want to hear it?"

"Yes I do." Robin answered. "I'm also curious as to why you're so hooked on sweets but that can wait for another day."

"Actually Bubbles, the story answers both." Gaius said. "Let me start.

"I'm the son of a rich middle-class merchant. My family has never been anything like those stuffy noblemen. I guess the best comparison I could give you is Maribelle. Her family is rich and powerful but not very well known. Though their social-standing is higher then my family's.

"Anyway, I've always had a strong moral code-"

"This is coming from the guy who steals for a living." Robin said. Gaius ignored the interruption.

"So when I would see something unfair I would be bothered. One day I was walking around the town I lived in and I saw a girl, around five, crying. I was ten at the time.

"I went up to the girl and asked what was wrong. She told me that another kid had taken her handkerchief that her mother had made for her. I was upset and I decided I would get it back. I went up to the guy, who had the handkerchief sticking out of one of his pockets, and, not knowing what else to do, decided to start a normal conversation, intending to eventually bring up the fact that he stole from the girl. But my fingers had other plans." As Gaius said this he wiggled his fingers.

"One moment I was talking, the next I deftly grabbed the handkerchief from the guy's pockets. And he didn't even realize it! As I did this I felt something I never had felt before. It was an odd tingling sensation and it just felt right. That's the best way to explain it.

I became hooked and it became a small hobby, taking things without other's knowing and putting it back, usually before they noticed it was missing. However, soon it evolved into something much more and I became a thief for a living."

Robin was very surprised. He didn't expect to hear this, that Gaius came from a well off family. He actually expected the opposite, a story about him living in the slums, stealing to survive.

"Interesting story. If I ever meet the guy who took the handkerchief I'll have to thank him." Robin said.

"Why?" Gaius asked.

"Because, if he never took it you may never had become a thief and that would've been a major setback for us." Robin said with a smile. "Though your story doesn't explain why you're addicted to sweets."

Gaius laughed. "That's because the story isn't over yet.

"The girl whom the handkerchief belonged to insisted on rewarding me when I gave her back the handkerchief. She gave me a candy. Now, my mom was always very... cautious when it came to sweets so I never had before. When I ate it a similar sensation occurred as the one that happened when I took back the handkerchief. And that was in addition to the explosion of sweetness on my tongue. So I was immediately hooked."

Robin chuckled. "Gaius my friend, you are most certainly a very interesting thief." the tactician said.

"That I am, Bubbles. Now, you gonna finish that popsicle Anna gave you? If not..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter means a lot, as it gives me a good reason to keep fighting, to keep living. Especially considering that when I originally wrote and posted it on FF.net I had suffered a major lost in my life. It's been over a year, close to two, since I had this lost and to this day I still feel the hole in my life, but I move on, as that is all anyone can do.

Chapter Two: Just A Flame

Crossover: None

Characters: Robin, Chrom.

Rating: K+

Robin sat, staring at the lamp in front of him. It was dark, save for the small light given off by the candle. The tactician could feel the wind, a soft gust that was at odds with the gravity of the situation. The Shepherds were marching to Mount Prism, after the future version of Robin had awakened the present Grima.

Robin sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that night. He was up late for a multitude of reasons. Ever since finding out Lucina guessed (correctly he might add,) that he was responsible for Chrom's death, he found it hard to sleep. Add that to the fact that he found out the future him had become Grima, killed off all the Shepherds in the future, and it was now an almost impossible task. That was apart from the constant headache he had whenever thinking about time travel and the agonizing over battle plans which were in front of him as well.

However, the most prominent reason for his lack of sleep was a question that had been nagging at him ever since Validar began to infiltrate his mind but now was there on its own.

What's the point?

He had had this question before, but never to the degree he had it now. Before it was why he fought in war, why he killed, why he continued to make plans that took people's lives. The answer was readily available. He had to because if he didn't he and all he held dear would be lost. He couldn't reason with his opponents, they were out for his blood. In that situation, the only response is to defend, even if that meant killing another.

No, what made this question all the more difficult now was because there was no easy answer. Why fight against something that you couldn't win against? Grima's power was old and ancient, powerful and terrible. Even if they completed the Awakening, then what? Attack a giant dragon that could easily kill them all? Fight a demented version of himself who had fused with Grima so now it not only had all of Robin's wits at his disposal but also the utter savageness of the Fell Dragon? He could anticipate everything Robin could come up with, after all the future version was also him. And it had more experience then this Robin did.

"Dueling with unpleasant thoughts?" said a strong voice. Robin looked up to see Chrom walk in through his tent flap. "I saw the light on, even though it's almost midnight." the prince said.

"Yeah." Robin replied, looking back at the lamp.

Chrom sat down next to Robin. The price waited, knowing full well that Robin would talk.

"Why do we keep fighting?" Robin asked, turning to the Prince. One of Chrom's eyebrows rose.

"What do you mean?" the prince asked.

"It's all so pointless Chrom." Robin said. "What are we trying to do? Defend peace? Prevent evil? It's an impossible goal! Grima is ancient and powerful! How could we possibly defeat him, even with the power of the Awakening Ceremony! And let's say we could, then what? There will always be bad, always be trouble! And we won't always be there Chrom! We don't go on forever, so what's the point of fighting?!"

Chrom said nothing for a moment. After a little thought he spoke. "You've been staring at that lamp, haven't you?"

Robin nodded. One of his eyebrow's quirked up as he did so to show a bit of confusion but he said nothing. He knew Chrom would explain how this would answer his question.

"Look at the flame. You see how it flickers back and forth. It's so small and so weak. And it won't last forever, just until the oil runs out." Chrom said. "So why don't you just put it out?"

"Why don't I put it out?" Robin parroted. "Because then I'd be stuck in the dark, unable to work."

"Yeah but does this little flame really help?" Chrom said. "It hardly lights up the tent, let alone the night. Against the utter darkness, you'd think it'd be useless." Chrom turned to look at Robin. "And yet you keep it going. Because no matter how ineffective it may be against the dark as a whole, it still has the power to push it away, at least a bit.

We're all flames Robin. Each of us nothing compared to the dark of the night. But we still provide light, we still push away a bit of the dark. That's why we keep going. Because no matter how insignificant we seem, no matter how temporary we are, we can at least shine, shine a little in the darkness and provide comfort till the sun truly rises."

Chrom got up and walked out of the tent. "Remember this Robin." he said as he left. "We may all just be flames. But even alone we bring a small light, a small hope that is enough to keep people going. Imagine what we are like all together, one large fire, burning in splendor and power."


	3. Don't Say Her Name Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can one Plegian general change an embittered man's view on an entire people?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks is owed to The Apocryphal One, as she was very helpful in looking over the chapter to make sure grammar, spelling and lore was all correct. Please, check out her stories.
> 
> Chapter 3: Don't Say Her Name Part 1
> 
> Crossover None.
> 
> Characters: Chrom, Mustafa, Robin

 

Even the weather mourned.

Chrom looked down, not revealing his face to any of his soldiers as they walked through the rain, slowly inching their way out of Plegia.

The going was slow, mainly because wet sand does not make for a good road for wagons. However, somehow Robin had been able to revitalize the army enough that they were able to keep moving forward. Soon, according to Basilio, they would release each a castle where they could rest and catch their strength.

Suddenly the pegasus rider who'd been sent to scout ahead dropped down-Cordelia. The woman ran straight to Robin and whispered something in his ear. Robin, their brilliant tactician, had kept the hood of his overcoat down, though more out of mourning then to keep away the rain. As such, his face was hidden and Chrom couldn't see his reaction to whatever it was Cordelia was telling him.

When Cordelia backed away, Robin turned to Chrom. The prince could see Robin's face now and could quickly tell that whatever he was about to hear was not going to cheer him up at all.

"We've got Plegians incoming."

"WHAT?!" Chrom nearly shouted, his hand flying towards Falchion.

"Yes. From their last position and their speed, I say we'll meet with them in around an hour."

"Damn! We're in no position to fight like this!" Basilio, the Feroxi Western Khan, growled. He had walked over the second he saw Chrom doing so and had heard Robin's report. "I can't believe I'm saying this but I think we're going to try and avoid them."

"I agree with the oaf." Flavia, Eastern Khan of Ferox spoke up. Ignoring Basilio's shout of annoyance, she continued, "Our troops are weak and currently demoralized. It would be foolish to confront the enemy right now."

"So is that how it's going to be? We're going to run from the dastards that have Emmeryn's blood on their hands?!" This time Chrom actually did shout.

"Chrom, we understand-" Flavia began but the prince immediately cut her off.

"No, you can't possibly understand!" Chrome snarled at her, a scowl on his face so dark that Flavia flinched when she looked at it. "We can't let those... those blood-thirsty animals cow us!"

"You can't be serious, boy! It would be suicide to attack in our current state!" Basilio argued back.

"We don't have a choice." Robin said, instantly getting everyone's attention. "We wouldn't have enough time to outmaneuver them anyway. And even if we could, they have wyvern riders incase you forgot. They'll track us and, without the burden of wagons and injured, they'll easily overtake us after a few hours. No, it makes the most sense to wait here and gather our strength. Start to get the troops into a defensive formation."

Basilio and Flavia looked at each other in unison before sighing.

"Hope you know what you're doing kid." Basilio said. Robin nodded.

"Don't worry. I do." the tactician said.

Basilio may not have been the most tactful of people, but even he knew that mentioning how Robin's plan to save Emmeryn failed was a bad idea right now. Besides, Flavia would skin him alive, if Chrom or Robin didn't murder him first. So instead he said nothing, nodding and walking away with Flavia.

When they were out of earshot, Chrom turned to Robin. "I'm taking a position at the front line."

Instead of protesting, which is honestly what Chrom suspected Robin would do, the tactician simply nodded. And, in a voice too quiet for Chrom to hear, Robin muttered "Good."

* * *

 

"General Mustafa, sir!" a soldier said, rushing up to Mustafa, who was leading the Plegian army's advance.

"Yes Fernold?" the man said, stopping for a moment to let Fernold catch his breath.

"You- sir, you know my name?!" Fernold asked shocked. Mustafa smiled.

"I make it a point to know all my men's names. Makes me remember they're as much human beings as I am, and not just some random guys sent out to die." Mustafa said rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "You're all human and deserve the respect and courtesy a human should have."

"Y.. Yes, sir." Fernold said, half in awe. "Anyway, we're almost at the Ylissean army's position."

Mustafa's face darkened at that. "I see. Thank you, Fernold."

"Sir!" Fernold saluted once and returned to his place in line.

As Mustafa watched Fernold return to his place he sighed. "This better work, tactician." he muttered. "For the lives of our men."

* * *

 

Chrom watched darkly as the Plegian army began to make itself out on the horizon.

"Wait." The prince nearly jumped, so tense was he that Robin's unexpected voice was enough to nearly cause him to slash out with Falchion, which he had sheathed but had one hand on the handle.

"Why?" Chrom hissed.

"It's safer for us to stay on the defensive. Remember, we're outnumbered. However, if we force them to come to us and battle on our terms, we may stand a chance." Robin explained.

Chrom gritted his teeth but stayed where he was. He knew intellectually that Robin was right. But it didn't stop the blood from pounding in his head, a bloodlust he never thought he could have pulsing through him.

After a few minutes the Plegians were actually distinguishable instead of just being a large black mass on the horizon. Chrom gripped Falchion harder, ready to order his men to prepare themselves. Then, suddenly, when the armies were a mere few hundred yards apart, the Plegians stopped their advance.

Chrom's bloodlust was immediately extinguished, replaced with utter confusion. What was going on? Things only began to become even more confusing when a lone man at the front of the Plegian army, a berserker from the looks of him, kept striding forward till he stopped directly halfway between the two armies.

"Ylissians!" The man began, the word said in such a powerful voice that it was heard over the din of thunder and rain. "I am Mustafa, general of this Platoon. I offer you a choice.

"You are hopelessly outnumbered and in unfamiliar terrain. You couldn't possibly win a battle against us. Surrender and I give you my word I will make sure you are all treated well."

Murmuring began to overtake the Ylissians encampment. For about two seconds.

"And why should the word of murderers like you mean anything to me?!" Chrom shouted back.

"Besides, surrender isn't a word I know!" Basilio added.

Ignoring Chrom's outburst, Mustafa turned to face Basilio. "Emmeryn wouldn't have wanted this to come to bloodshed." He said simply.

"Don't speak her name!" Chrom shouted, his rage easily conveyed through his voice.

Mustafa shook his head sadly. "Your rage is justified, Prince Chrom. But the meaning of your sister's sacrifice was not lost on me. I suspect many Plegians who saw it would say the same."

"Even if I were to believe that, could the same be said for your king?!" Chrom asked back. "No, I don't think it can. We will not give in!"

Mustafa sighed. "Well tactician, it is as we feared. It has come to this," The man murmured to his voice again he called out, "Very well. Then I offer you a second option.

"Prince Chrom of Ylisse, I, General Mustafa of Plegia, challenge you to single combat!"

Voices of shock rang out from both armies as the men began talking amongst themselves. Chrom himself was temporarily struck dumb.

"You what?"

"You heard me Prince." Mustafa said, pulling out his ax. "One fight, one-on-one. No interferences."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that? That you won't call for help?" Chrom asked incredulously.

"I give you my word of honor. Not as a Plegian, whom you wouldn't trust, but as a leader, a fighter, just as yourself."

"And how can we be sure your men won't come to aid you on their own?" Frederick, silent until now, spoke up.

"I can assure my men will hold o their posts if I order them to." Mustafa said. "They would not like it, but they are loyal. They will listen."

Chrom was silent. For just a moment. "And your terms?" He asked slowly, turning the idea over in his mind, weighing the odds of his victory against such a seasoned warrior.

"If I win, your army comes back with me. I swear that I will treat them just as I would have if they had surrendered: with honor and like human beings, like any prisoner of war." Mustafa said. "If you win then my army will allow you to pass freely."

Chrom was silent. All around him there was murmuring, many a voice expressing its distrust.

"Please Chrom, listen to him." Chrom turned to see Robin staring straight at him. Chrom could easily make out weariness in his gaze, but there was something else. A look of pleading. "Please. The army will listen no matter what you say. We may be able to win if it came to an all-out battle but how high would the cost be? Please don't order them to their deaths. There has been too much death already. Please take his terms."

Chrom stayed silent again. Finally he spoke. "Very well General. I agree."

Immediately, shouting broke out from the Ylissins, the Shepherds louder than anyone else.

"Teach can't let you go alone! Let me at 'em!" Vaike shouted.

"Your chances of winning this fight in your current exhausted and overly-emotional state are incredibly low." Miriel said. "It is utterly foolhardy to fight by yourself."

"Chrom, you can't be serious!" Sumia shouted at him, looking like she wanted to punch him for agreeing.

"I agree milord! This is insanity!" Frederick looked somewhere between enraged and flabbergasted. "I cannot allow-"

"No." Chrom said to him, the steel in his voice immediately silencing everyone. "You must and you will. I won't stand to see more Ylissian and Feroxi lives lost senselessly."

Chrom than walked forward, stopping only inches from Mustafa. "You have my word I will fight this alone." He said. "Now, order your men to stand down."

"Of course." Turning, Mustafa shouted "Troops, stand your ground!"

Mustafa and Chrom both walked back a few yards, before turning to each other. Then, as one the two men charged at each other.

In any normal battle against any regular axe-wielding foe, Chrom would have easily had the advantage. Falchion's movements were much more fluid and precise than the blunt and heavy swings of an axe. However, there were a few points that changed the entire equation.

Mustafa was using a Short Axe, the stronger cousin to the long range Hand Axe. As a long range weapon, it was lighter than the normal axe and, while still heavy, it was easy to maneuver for someone of Mustafa's caliber. That leads to the general himself. The man was obviously a veteran, showing a clear expertise with his weapon of choice. As graceful and powerful as Falchion was, Mustafa was able to match Chrom blow for blow, easily swinging and blocking Chrom's movements and strikes.

And then there were the issues in Chrom himself. While Chrom was strong and skilled with a sword, his anger was clouding his judgement. It lent him strength, but strength is meaningless when one constantly is overextending their swing, when one just hacks and slashes without any thought going into the moves. Against an opponent like Mustafa, one who was just as skilled in his weapon of choice as Chrom was, one had to think, to plan their movements so as to catch the enemy by surprise. And Chrom just couldn't do that.

For minutes the battle went on, each army nervously shuffling. Chrom and Mustafa had both scored nicks and scratches on each other, but no real significant wounds had been dealt. Chrom breathed heavily, resting after just springing back from a lock between Falchion and the short Axe. Sweat dripped down his foreheads and arms and damp splotches could be seen on his clothing. Mustafa though didn't look like he broke a sweat at all.

"Is this truly the best you've got Prince of Ylisse?!" the General shouted.

Chrom growled and rushed forward. For the next few minutes the world became a blur, the only clarity being himself, Mustafa and their weapons clashing, sparks flying every now and again.

Suddenly, Chrom took a swing that Mustafa easily batted away, leaving him exposed for a few seconds. However, to his utter surprise, Mustafa ignored this opening. While it went unnoticed by everyone in the 'audience' Chrom realized that the Plegian general had just spared him from, at the very least a deep and painful gash and, at most, a lethal blow.

"Why?" Chrom couldn't help but ask in a low voice, all traces of anger having vanished to be replaced with simple confusion.

Mustafa stared at him intensely. "I believe you know the answer Prince Chrom." the general responded before charging him, forcing Chrom onto the defensive.

And as Chrom began to block Mustafa's blows, bits and pieces began to connect themselves together.

_Why would he let me live just now? Heck, what has he been doing this entire fight? Now that I look back on it, he had plenty of chances to kill me or at least seriously wound me and he ignored all of them! What is he playing at?_

_And why aren't his men rushing in? This would be the perfect time to kill me! Sure, he said not to, but since when did a Plegian have honor?_

_Could it be... could it be the Plegians aren't as bloodthirsty as I thought? That they have a code of morality as well? But that can't be true! They've provoked us, murdered the people of Ylisse, pillaged our villages, and have destroyed our crops! Their king has cried out for war and the people have echoed his cries!_

Suddenly memories began to play themselves in front of Chrom's eyes.

* * *

 

_An old stern man in royal clothing with the mark of Naga on his left cheek shouting from a balcony to the people below, all of whom shouted back in obvious agreement. Chrom was looking up at him and next to Chrom, on his right side, stood an older girl with blonde hair and the mark of Naga on her forehead. On his left stood a younger girl with blonde pigtails._

_Watching as his father began to choke for no apparent reason after drinking something, his face turning from red to blue to purple and finally to ashen white as he fell dead. Knights swarming around him and his siblings, healers attending him and his siblings, checking to make sure they were all right, and a man in a cloak being dragged into the room by guards. Lots and lots of shouting and then a silence. A furious voice asking something and the cloaked figure spitting at him and his sisters in response._

_Riding on a horse with a younger Frederick, holding onto the knight's waist. On their right side rode a younger Emmeryn. On her right side rode Lissa who held onto a knight. Pegasus riders flew above them and a group of knights rode next to them. They were going through a town of sandstone, the sun beating down harshly on them. The buildings were mostly crumbling and a few bore scorch marks. People stared as they went by, many of whom clearly looked at them with distrust and not a few without outright anger and disgust. Most though looked with fear. They all wore tattered garments._

_Being greeted in front of a sandstone castle by a group of sorcerers who surrounded an elderly man who wore expensive clothing and a crown, but who wore a look of pure exhaustion on his face._

_Watching as his sister and the elderly king of Plegia signed a treaty._

* * *

 

Chrom continued fighting, but his body was on auto-pilot. His thoughts were elsewhere entirely, wrapped up in their own world.

_Have I been wrong? All this time have I been just as biased and racist as I believed Gangrel to be? Am I judging a people all based on one insane ruler?_

Chrome suddenly realized something else. As he turned around to try and slash Mustafa's back, he saw the looks on his men's faces. They all were looking at the battlefield, watching with hope and barely constrained fury. They had their hands on their weapons but refused to move forward. And Chrom realized that he had seen that look before, on the opposite side of the clearing. And he understood what it meant.

_The Plegians. They want Mustafa to win as much as my troops want to win for the exact same reason. They can't stand to see their beloved leader lose his life._

Chrom's grasp on Falchion suddenly weakened and the blade fell from his hands. Instead of attacking him though, Mustafa just looked at him and asked "Do you now get it, Prince Chrom?"

"We're the same." Chrome gasped put. "We're the exact same. Our men our loyal to US. Not just to their country, but to us, their superiors, all because of who we are. Compassionate leaders.

"And not only that, but both countries have been through the same pain at the hands of the other. My father started a senseless crusade against your people, and while that does not absolve Gangrel of his crimes, I now understand the people's point of view."

Mustafa smiled. "You get it now. I'm glad." the berserker said. "Now pick up your sword and let us finish this."

"Yes." Chrom said, picking up Falchion. "But know this. I no longer am fighting the General of Plegia and you are no longer fighting the Prince of Ylisse. I am fighting Mustafa, you are fighting Chrom. Two equals, in a duel."

Mustafa's smile broadened. "I'm glad we're now on the same page." he said.

And the two charged at each other once more, no longer units of an army, but rather as men of their own right, truly worthy foes in each other's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I love Mustafa and I like the idea that he would have challenged Chrom one on one just to spare his men. After all, so long as you didn't farm them for EXP they get to live once you beat him.


End file.
